devour

night procures howling shades and rabid faeries with foaming mouths
flitting round in a dazzling showcase of exquisite death. this lucid nightmare
might mean I want these vespertine beasts roaming around the centrifugal
synaptic prison, maybe even want to tame them so that their nails retract
and tread smoothly on the massacred cerebral tertiary;
but for god’s sake you’d think I could hold them down long enough
to clip their opalescent wings and tear out the scythes curling from their paws
to save what’s left of the masticated neurons and my gnawed brain stem
still tingling from tiny bites of make-believe,
little myths I will swear by till I choke on my tongue.

i’m propagating madness in funhouse masochism to see
if i can make the ceiling spin faster. pyromaniacs set the only other planet with life
on fire, cackling at the choked screams and praising flame’s black crescendo
throwing unlit matches on the pyre for kindling.

how much of this is in my head? the shadow puppets and smudgeface phantoms
on the inner cognitive sanctuary run their fingertips through ash,
smear their faces with the grey powdered corpse of lucidity, and i’m screaming
through my fingers with the chorus of frightened liars shrieking
“i’m sane!” sane, sane, save for the Voices,
and everything becomes tinted lavender and lovely as labcoats
o p i a t e the cerebral riot-

but no, heaven help me I do not want your brand of normative thoughts
and blurred consciousness, that hazy state of half-mind and subdued
madness; just help me exterminate this fantastic infestation
that would be magic of a different kind were it not so exhilarating, annihilating
the revived corpses of sanity. and I murdered them all, lacerated their sickly hearts
with mortal exactitude, and fed the scraps to the hyenas
and even those little buzzing girls whose teeth are sharper than you think.

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3 thoughts on “devour

  1. Still one of my favorites and to me the best line is:

    and even those little buzzing girls whose teeth are sharper than you think.

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